Weapon Of Choice
by Inveniam Viam
Summary: Born into family of organized crime, Rhea Dusquene is no stranger to violence and death, even before the outbreak. Traveling a long way from home, Rhea and her brother search for her father who was last known to be at a prison in Georgia. What happens when they come across a group trying to get into the same place? Rated M for language and eventual sexual scenes. Daryl/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing even remotely related to The Walking Dead. I only own my own original characters.  
**

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What a mess. Everything, absolutely everything in this world had gone to shit. This whole ordeal seemed to start out of nowhere, too, and spread like wildfire. From the first news broadcast, it was about one week later that most cities and towns were evacuated. This, in all honesty, didn't make a whole lot of sense. If over half of the general population was being advised to leave there homes, where was anyone going to go? Roughly three days after that is when true panic and ruthless human survival mode kicked in and chaos was running rampant. Of course, most of the mayhem had died down substantially. But then again, that's because nearly everyone is dead; the initial feeding frenzy is over. That all happened a year or so ago now, at least that's anyone's best guess. A bit hard to keep track of days anymore.

Yet, some have managed to survive hell this long. Rhea being one of those lucky few. Lucky was a loose term at this point. She was certain almost everyone had at least entertained the thought of suicide at least once since the outbreak. Why not? The dead were crawling out of their graves and feasting on the living. Who wouldn't want that to just be over? But, Rhea dug deep within herself, pushing forward each day. Anyone knowing her before this all started would probably die of shock to know she was still among the living, not a mindless flesh-eater. People that were acquainted with her before regarded her as a spoiled little girl whose last name let her get and get away with anything she wanted. The Mob Brat. The mere thought of her former nickname made her roll her eyes, especially considering she was alive and well and they probably were not. Maybe having the last laugh wasn't the greatest accomplishment in the world, but these days, Rhea would take what she can get.

Rhea was currently slumped against a rough wooden wall, her back and head resting against it gingerly. She was trying to ignore the slight headache she had had for the past couple weeks. The world didn't stop for headaches; not before, not now. The sun was quite high in the sky, signaling it was around mid-day despite the fact that it was fairly overcast. Quite frankly though, Rhea was sick of sitting here literally twiddling her thumbs.

She poked her head out of the door and scanned at the ground two stories below where she was perched. As with most survivors, Rhea and her brother Evan could never find a place to stay for long periods of time. If nearby supplies didn't run out, it was overrun with the reanimated corpses. They had definitely travelled a lot farther than they ever thought they would need. But, just a two weeks or so ago they had stumbled onto what seemed like could be a haven for some time. When Rhea first saw it, she was ecstatic. Some kid probably was the first time he saw it too.

In rural Georgia, on an acreage behind a farmhouse, was a tree house that was in pretty decent condition. It was high off the ground and the only way to get up was by climbing a rope ladder. They didn't have to be too anxious if a biter was nearby, they were too high off the ground for them to be in danger. If there were only a few cadavers skulking around, Rhea and Evan would just pick them off one by one. And if there were a large group, they could just hide out in the tree fort, remaining undetected until they passed by. It certainly wasn't a Four Seasons, nor was it very big, but it served their purpose and gave them enough space to live semi-comfortably. At least, compared to places they have stayed before.

Evan was off in search of food by himself. He never let Rhea go with him, saying hunting was his job. Little did he know, occasionally she had been known to sneak out while he was gone to do some exploring of her own. There was a location about ten minutes away that was part of the reason they had travelled to Georgia. Evan really didn't want her going there alone; the place was swarming with biters. But sometimes she just couldn't help herself. Today was no exception.

Rhea peeked outside again, observing the area to see that it was clear of any obvious danger, and decided to go check the place out again to see if there were any changes. She suited up with her weaponry, a Glock 17 in a holster slung across her hips, a Smith & Wesson Model 3 .44 tucked into the back of her jeans, and a Pantera Magnum compound bow which she kept in hand with a buck knife in her front jean pockets. With one last look out, she lowered the rope ladder and climbed down, landing on the grass-covered ground with a 'thump.'

She knew she would have to be relatively quick, her brother usually only came back from his hunts closer to dusk, but sometimes he would come sooner. Getting her bearings, she headed directly southwest from the tree house, keeping her knees bent so she was crouching ever so slightly hoping to remain undetected by any creatures roaming about. One thing her previous lifestyle had taught her was how to be stealthy, how to move without being heard. It's definitely helped keep Rhea alive this far. Evan and his sister had done a fair amount of scouting this way since they set up camp in the tree house. She had a good idea of what to expect on the way, but she knew you can never really be certain. Her senses on high alert, all she could detect at the moment was some birds chirping off in the distance.

It was muggy out, the humidity in the air making Rhea's normally wavy brown hair frizz out. Brushing some of the long tendrils out of her face, she marched forward. She knew that she was getting close to her destination, and thus closer to the most dangerous part of her trek. The last couple minutes of getting to her destination was always chockfull of the undead wandering about, searching for their next meal. This time was no exception. About fifty yards ahead and to the left she spotted a biter, another one just a few steps behind. She loaded her bow, took aim and exhaled as she shot, hitting the thing right in the temple. The cadaver that was still standing noticed as his little undead pal hit the ground and flipped his head around, spotting Rhea. She wasted no time at all shooting another arrow right between its eyes.

Surveying the area and seeing it was now clear at the moment, she moved forward to wear the motionless corpses, tugging the arrows out of their half rotting skulls. Any kind of ammunition was of high value and if it could be retrieved after being used, that was an added bonus.

A twig suddenly snapped behind her and she he heard that trademark heavy breathing before she felt a cold hand graze her shoulder and grasp her hair. Letting out a small gasp, she tried desperately to slide the buck knife out of her pocket while fending off the foul smelling body. It kept pulling her hair as she arched her back and was pushing it away with her leg, the sound of the gnashing teeth causing her to panic. Twisting her body with full force, she managed to free herself from the biters grasp, taking a couple steps back quickly as it lunged after her. Rhea was finally able to get her buck knife, flip it open and shove it deep in the cadavers eye just as it close enough, blood gushing out as the lifeless body slumped to the ground for the last time.

Panting, she vigorously, thrashed her head around looking for another being that may be after her. Rhea inwardly scolded herself for not noticing that one before it was almost too late. She flicked her wrist, causing excess blood on her knife to slide off the blade. Deciding that didn't quite do the trick, she bent down and wiped the blade with the biters shirt hem, being careful to get the blood off so it didn't rust. Once she was satisfied, Rhea exhaled and started heading back in the direction she was originally headed.

The petite-framed girl smiled to herself when she saw railroad tracks up ahead, indicating that she had reached her destination. As she stepped onto the metal rails, she took in the building before her, the one she longed to be able to get inside. In the clearing before her stood West Central Prison. Perhaps, especially before the outbreak, a prison was not a place anyone was trying to get into. But Rhea had her reasons. Unfortunately for her, the entire yard, which was fenced into a few different sections, was swarming with the undead. Some were in prison suits, others in SWAT armor. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Rhea and Evan could take them all on themselves. Well, maybe they could, but it sure wasn't something that they wanted to risk.

Faint voices were heard in the distance to Rhea's right, jolting her out of her train of thought. The voices were getting gradually getting louder and more distinct. Rhea concluded they were definitely belonged to male humans. If there was one thing she had learned throughout her life, it was to trust absolutely no one. That motto rang true especially now; the living could be just as dangerous as the dead.

Moving quickly, she crept in behind some tall bushes just behind the railroad tracks and ducked down. Sure enough, as the voices got closer she could make out two figures through the foliage and they were indeed two men.

As they came into the viewpoint of the prison, one of them started walking farther ahead slightly. "What a shame," came a thick southern drawl while the other man looked upon the building with obvious wonder. Rhea thought that maybe, just maybe, this could be her way to get what she wanted.

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**Author's Note: I have not written anything in a very long time. But this idea was kicking around in my head for so long I couldn't help but take a stab at writing it. That being said, any feedback you have would be more appreciated than you could imagine, especially any constructive criticism. I will warn you, I may be stretching out timelines from the TV series just to make more sense for my character/relationship development. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and what's to come!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**I can't believe the response this has gotten so far, it's incredible. Thank you so much to those who have added this story to your alert or favorite list and a special thanks to Leyshla Gisel and IrishBeauty294 who have been the first two to review! You guys rock! :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own original characters.**

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Two men walked down the vacant railroad tracks in what started out as silence. It had been a hard winter for their entire group, losing so many back at the farm, the whole ordeal with Shane, which Rick was still being affected by. He tried his hardest not to show it, whether it was guilt or anger. But he had definitely changed since then, the whole group felt it. Lori especially. Inwardly, Daryl felt a bit sorry for her and how Rick and Carl treated her know but he'd never voice that.

"See signs of anything?" The former police officer asked, breaking Daryl out of his train of thought. The rest of the pack was out on the road, resting up while he and Rick took the opportunity to do some hunting. While Daryl was causally looking for traces of nearby game, he hadn't been focusing too much until Rick questioned.

Crossbow in hand and at the ready, Daryl picked up his pace and moved slightly more forward than the unofficial leader, searching for any kind of tracks or scat that may be around. To his right, something caught his eye in a clearing. _Nope, that definitely ain't no deer _Daryl thought to himself. His stride slowed as he got into better view of what was in the cleared off area, Rick finally catching on to what he was gazing at.

"What a shame," Daryl mumbled as the two men regarded the grey building that stood before them. Judging by the high chain-link fences topped with barbed-wire, guard towers, and walkers clothed in denim jumpsuits, it was clear that it was a prison.

While the redneck was regarding the structure in slight contempt, the gears in Rick's brain were turning. Daryl almost couldn't believe that Rick was even entertaining the thought of moving into a prison, especially one that appeared to be overrun with walkers. But, the biker vest clad man had seen crazier things happen. "This could be perfect," Rick practically whispered, still loud enough for Daryl to hear, confirming his assumptions about Rick wanting to set up shop here. Not saying a word, Daryl just stared at the structure, not at all convinced this was a good idea.

Crouching in the bushes behind the two distracted males, Rhea was observing the whole thing. Between the leaves and scrub, she couldn't make out every detail of the figures in front of her, other than that they were armed, they were men, and they were thinking of getting into that prison. Or at least onto the grounds.

Rhea was not a person to trust people, especially strangers; not before the outbreak, not now. But she was debating whether she should make an exception this time around. She desperately wanted to get into that prison, and without outside help, she and brother would die trying if they did it themselves. Evan would never in a million years ask these unknown people, or any people that matter, for help. But she wasn't her older sibling. Of course even if these two men would help oblige to helping them, the four of them bringing that whole down was still highly risky. But, she reckoned, if they had survived this long, that male duo would be more than aware that they would need more than them to kill all those reanimated corpses. But if they were still planning it, and by what Rhea could see they were, they must be part of a faction of sorts. Which could potentially either be more dangerous or much more helpful.

She knew she didn't have long to make a decision, but she still tried to weigh the pros and cons as quickly as she could. The dangers were more than obvious, although if it was just those two right now she would have a better chance confronting them than an entire group. Plus, she could still probably make a run for it if they decided to attack, guessing she knew these woods a tad better than they would.

But Rhea still wasn't one hundred percent convinced. At least, not until the slightly taller one, the man holding the crossbow spoke, "You sure ya wanna have t' deliver a baby in here?"

Rhea's eyes grew wide. Neither pregnancy nor babies were something she had even thought existed since the outbreak. Not that it wasn't possible, she just assumed people had better things to do, like, say… Staying alive? But of course, she had also been stuck with her brother this entire time. Sex wasn't exactly much of a thought for her anymore. But nevertheless, she was intrigued. If this group was tolerant enough to have a pregnant woman with them and be willing to look out for the needs and cautions that would no doubt come with a newborn, Rhea figured maybe they wouldn't be that barbaric. _Evan's going to kill me for this, _thought the woman before cautiously standing up.

The men heard rustling behind them and immediately turned to face the source of the noise, weapons poised and ready to shoot. But when they saw a young woman rise from the brush, arms outstretched and bow unloaded, held in the air, the hesitated to pull any triggers. "Please don't shoot," came a soft voice from the girl.

"What do ya want, girl?" questioned the man with brown, curly hair. Both of the boys were eyeing her up and down. Rick more out of curiosity though he still held his guarded stature. Daryl was far more defensive; his eyes squinted into a glare and finger on the trigger of his crossbow, even though she was undeniably pretty. Frail, maybe, but still prettier than any one of the rotting walkers they normally encounter.

"Look, I don't mean any kind of trouble guys," she started, her feminine voice quiet but confident, "Just thought there are a few things you might want to know about that place before y'all decide to go bustin' in."

Rick's eyebrow raised in intrigue, "Go on."

Rhea's big blue eyes shifted back and forth between the two faces in front of her, and then to their weapons still pointed to her. "I don't suppose you would consider lowering your weapons from my face first? I ain't gonna bite ya," the corners of her mouth tugged up at the small pun. Rick glanced over to his partner, but Daryl kept his eyes locked on the girl before them, not moving a muscle. Rhea sighed, "Fine. All of the yards outside, front and back, are overrun. A lot of the yard though is sectioned off into different parts. All of the fences seem completely intact. But, there is a hole in the wall at the North end of the building. No telling what kind of evil lies inside those walls."

Rick peeked over his shoulder slightly as she was talking, trying to get a picture of what she was taking. From what he could see, it sure didn't seem like she was fibbing. He wasn't entirely sure why she was telling them this, in all honesty, she was pretty much putting her life in their hands just to give them some information. Not something characteristic of most, if any, living people these days. Everyone just fended for themselves. "Keep your hands up?" he asked her, his facial expression softening just a touch. She replied with a short nod. Though he was still wary, he slowly lowered his rifle. Daryl looked at him almost quizzically out of the corner of his eye, which Rick saw and nodded in his direction, signaling for the crossbow to be lowered as well. "Why you telling us this?" Rick asked, still perplexed by the young girl's motive.

Even with her hands raised, Rhea managed to give a small shrug, "Couple of reasons. Personally, just because the whole world's gone to shit, that doesn't mean we should stop being human to other humans. Second, I-" she paused, not exactly sure of how she should word her next sentence, "I have some more info on this place, but before I tell you, and the reason I'm telling you at all is because I want to help you get in."

The two men looked at her completely stunned, not expecting that answer whatsoever. "The fuck d'ya wanna get in there for?" Daryl finally asked, his face twisted in a look of shock and derision.

Rick jumped in at this point, "Are you just by yourself? I don't know if we're looking for any others to tag along."

Rhea shook her head, "No, no. I'm looking to be apart of your little group or whatever. It's just me and my brother. He's not here, he's back at our camp. Him n' I have been trying to find a way to get in there a while. But the two of us would never be able to do it. So, that's why I have a that little proposition for ya." Rick still looked hesitant but motioned for her to go on. "We help you clear out the yard, and do what we can in the prison. I have good reason to believe that the people in this place had turned early, so there's a good chance there are a lot of supplies and food in that building intact. Evan, my brother, and I will fight by your sides and if we find what we're looking for, or if we don't, we'll be out of your hair, I promise."

Rick couldn't believe his ears, but his poker face was strong. The smallest possibility of food stockpiles and supplies was more than he could hope for. He was just wanting shelter at this point but this girl sounded pretty sure there was one hell of a bounty lying within those walls. "Those supplies and food you talk about, that what you and your brother are after?"

The girl gave a gentle, partially amused smile, "Nah, just looking for some information, I swear on my mother's eyes."

Rick put his hands on his hips, and Daryl moved his gaze between his thoughtful 'leader' and this strange girl in front of him. In his opinion, it sounded too good to be true, and he rolled his eyes when he could tell that Rick was seriously considering it.

"How 'bout this," Rick offered, "You come with us back to our group, you tell them what you told us and anything else you might know, and as a group we'll decide."

Daryl was taken back, "Thought this wasn't a democracy no more?"

"I'm making an exception this one time. You in or out, girl?"

She bowed her head slowly before raising it back up, "Whatever you want, man."

"Rick, for all you know she could take us out on the way back." Daryl countered, definitely not down with the whole idea.

Rhea just laughed, "You really gonna let a lil' girl kick your sorry ass?" She retorted as she started to follow the man in the brown collared shirt down the tracks.

Daryl scoffed, mumbling a 'fuck no' before following after them, icy eyes glaring at this new girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh I can't even begin to describe how happy it makes me to see the reception this story has gotten so far. Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited! It means the world to a newbie lil' writer like myself.**

**Leyshla Gisel: You'll find out soon :)**

**Enjoy everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Daryl Dixon was less than thrilled about the new find on their hunt that afternoon. Finding the prison was one thing but this new tag-along was not something he was happy about. But if there was one thing he knew about Rick, was that when he was determined to do or get something there was no stopping him. He wanted to get into that prison. And if that meant the possibility of having some outside help, then Rick would be more than willing to at least entertain that idea.

"Y'have a name?" Rick asked the girl walking along side them.

"Rhea," she answered simply, who wasn't exactly ecstatic over the fact that they had made her hand over her bow and pistol. She still had her other gun tucked behind her back, the others obviously not noticing it, not that she would use it unless it was absolutely necessary. Of course, she understood why the men took those precautions; the living are just as dangerous as the dead. That still didn't mean she had to be happy with being near weaponless.

"I'm Rick," the man wearing the brown shirt introduced himself, "And this is Daryl."

Rhea peered over at Daryl as he was introduced. He definitely didn't seem like much of a people person. And he certainly didn't seem to like that she was coming with them to their group. Part of her wondered if it was only because she was a stranger to them or if part of it had to do with her gender. _Sure wouldn't be the first time, _she thought to herself.

The man named Rick raised his hand up, pointing ahead, "We're just up on this road here."

Rhea frowned slightly, a little taken aback by how this group of theirs was okay with just chilling idly on an open road, not terribly protected by any kind of structure. They trekked up a small bank to get up to the road which was clear of anything other than a small group of cars. Not even a few motionless corpses scattered the pavement, though the stale, humid stench was still prevalent in the air. No one even really registered the smell of the decaying bodies anymore. It was always there, and anyone that was still living just got used to it. It wasn't pleasant by any means, and Rhea would give just about anything to be able to take a deep inhale of freshly baked bread, blooming lilacs, or even new car smell. Those comforting aromas were something she wished she had never taken for granted, and doubted that she would ever get the chance to enjoy again.

In front of the fleet of vehicles, a young boy stood donning a brown cowboy hat, gun in hand. Judging by his straight face, but lack of offensive action, Rhea guessed that he was part of Rick's clan. She did notice the slight curiosity in his features as they neared him, making her feel slightly nervous. No, she wasn't scared of the boy, but she couldn't help but feel unnerved by meeting a new crowd; there was a definite possibility that her decision to meet them could cost her life. But if she was honest with herself, being killed by living people was far more appealing than being eaten alive or turned into one of those monsters. It somehow felt like a more humane death. And being killed was probably outcome she had accepted fairly early on in her 24 years. Being part of a crime family, with people she knew being murdered in brutal, often creative ways, she was no stranger to the fear of death. Besides, if these people decided to kill her in cold blood, at least she would be dying on her terms. With the uncertainty of this new, uncontrollable world that was something she considered a luxury. That thought process in her head made her feel a bit more at ease.

A gray-haired woman now also became aware of the trio making their way towards the bunch, motioning with her hand, and alerting the others to the return of the two men and their new female follower. One by one, people were walking towards the three. Rhea counted seven others in total, men and women, young and old. As she got closer to the vehicles that were stopped, she could make out another woman resting in one of the cars. Honestly, Rhea didn't think this pack of survivors seemed all that menacing, but by no means did she let her guard down, mentally or physically.

"Not exactly what we expected you to come back with from hunting," an Asian-looking guy spoke up, eyeing the new arrival with hesitancy.

Rick glanced over at the woman before replying, "No, but we may have found a solution to the problem we've been having about where to go next."

This piqued the preteen boy's interest a bit. He turned his attention from Rick to the stranger, "Do you have somewhere we can stay?" He asked with a hint of hope of in his voice.

Furrowing her brows ever so slightly, Rhea opened her mouth to speak but was cut off before she could get any words out. "Not exactly," Rick started. Rhea personally hated not being able to speak for herself, something she had to put up with her entire life, but didn't show her annoyance, knowing it could be detrimental to how the group perceived her. "We came across a prison about half a mile west of where we are now. There are a lot of walkers in there now, but most of its fences still look intact. We may be able to set up camp there for a bit at least."

"What does she gotta do with it?" A girl who looked like she could be in her mid-twenties with short brown hair spoke up, nodding her head in the newcomers direction, her tone defensive and rude.

Placing his hand on his hip, the apparent leader of the crew focused on the petite girl, "She approached us when we saw the prison, gave us some pretty useful information about the state of the place. Offered to help us clear it out."

An aging man, hair white as snow, piped in, "Is this true?" He addressed Rhea directly; his voice was raspy, but soft.

Rhea bit her lip, nodding slowly before speaking. "Yeah, my brother and I have been scouting out the place for a while now. I'm pretty positive that the outbreak hit it early on. Chances are there are still food and supplies in there for the taking." There were a few hushed gasps throughout the group as she spoke her last few words, obvious glints of hope in their eyes.

"N' you just happen to wanna help us?" Daryl snorted in derision at Maggie's question, skepticism dripping from her every word. He was relieved that he wasn't the only one that was doubtful of Rhea's motives. He knew she just had to have an ulterior motive; no one was nice enough to help out for no reason. Sure, she wanted 'information' that was in the prison, but Daryl was not dumb to the fact that there was something deeper there. The fact that she was nervously gnawing at her lip furthered his cynicism.

"My brother and I have been searchin' for ways to get in there since we found it. But the two of us can't take all those things down ourselves. Too many of em'." Rhea could sense that what she was saying wasn't exactly helping her case so she gave them her original offer to Rick, "We just wanna take a look at some of the records in there, if they're still there. We can help you guys fight your way in and once we find the information we're hoping to find, we'll be on our way. Any goods you find in there are all yours."

Rhea watched as the people before her absorbed her request. She glanced over to Daryl, who was still clutching her bow, and could tell he was still suspicious of her. Honestly, she didn't really blame him; she would feel the same way if their roles were reversed. The former mob daughter could only hope that they accepted her help and didn't ask too many questions. The last thing she wanted right now was to get into her past.

The elder of the group's gaze left this new woman and fell upon Rick, "We could probably use the extra help getting in there. Lori should be getting as much rest as she can right now."

Rick bobbed his head thoughtfully, "Y' any good with that thing?" He asked, motioning towards the girl's weapon in Daryl's possession.

Rhea had to supress a smirk, "Doubt I'd still be alive if I weren't."

Appearing rather determined, Rick had clearly made his decision on the matter, "There's a dirt road leading up to the gates of the prison. Let's pack up n' get out there." He made eye contact with his recent, temporary addition, "Hope you don't mind ridin' in the back of a pickup truck."


	4. Chapter 4

**You guys are all the best. Seriously. All the reads/reviews/favorites/follows makes me so happy. I wasn't sure how well this story would take off but I am so happy with the reception it's gotten so far. One thing to note about this chapter, as well as ones in the future.. You will notice I make some small changes to what happens in the actual tv series. I want to make it clear that I am in no way a Carol hater. But for the purpose of building a relationship between Daryl and the OC, sometimes she just needs to be moved out of the way just a touch. And I mean, come on, she seems much to old for sexy Daryl. Am I right? So no hating please! Any other feedback is very much appreciated. **

**Leyshla Gisel: I didn't forget! These are written a few chapters in advance so this was all part of the plan, don't you worry!**

**IrishBeauty294: Hope this answers your question :)**

**Note: The OC's last name "Dusquene" is pronounced: Doo-Cane**

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Three squirrels and a raccoon was not a bad days worth of hunting in Evan Dusquene's eyes. In fact, that was the most success he'd had in weeks. _Maybe going all the way to fuckin' Georgia would be worthwhile after all, _the 31 year old thought to himself. He personally hated the fact that they had gone this far. Granted, their home state of Louisiana was an absolute hell hole, but wasn't everywhere? He truly did not believe that they would find what or who they were looking for. If by some miracle they were able to get into that prison, Evan did not think there was even a remote possibility anyone was still alive in there. But his sister was determined to try anyways. Even when the two of them were kids, Evan and Rhea never saw quite eye to eye. That really has not changed, but since his kid sister was really all he had left in this world, he would do his best to stick by her.

After a fairly brisk walk in the hot Georgia sun, Evan finally made it to the tree fort they had been calling home the last little while. Normally, he wouldn't be back this early from hunting but since he had actually caught something that would be a decent meal for the evening, he decided to head back earlier, after skinning and gutting all of the meat of course. To his surprise, the rope ladder that Rhea usually kept up until he got back was hanging down for him to climb up. He could only hope that meant she had seen him coming. But he had to be prepared for the worst. There was no such thing as idealistic thinking anymore, not if you wanted to stay alive and keep within an inch of your sanity.

Bracing himself for the worst, Evan adjusted the small animal carcasses that were strung together so that they hung across his back in a way that they wouldn't fall off as he ascended the ladder. He exhaled, running his hand through his near-black hair. The place was vacant. Evan looked around, scanning for any kind of clue to tell him what could've happened. His sister's bow and two favorite guns were missing; there didn't seem to be signs of any kind of struggle either. That gave him an ounce of relief. Especially since he had a pretty good idea of where she would be, provided she went somewhere of her own free will. Quickly, he tied his string of meat to hang off of a support beam on the ceiling of the tree fort and climbed back down the ladder, heading off into the direction of the prison.

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It was a bumpy ride for Rhea, sitting in the back of the silver truck. Luckily, it was also a short one. When driving, it was only a few minutes until we reached the outermost fence of the prison; even the outside had a couple straggling biters roaming around. Rhea was happy that these people were decent enough to let her have her weapons back. It would've been pretty stupid to think she could've fought without them. Live bait only bought you so much time anyways. Taking aim, she picked off the few walking corpses with her pistol, not worrying about making noise; once they got into at least one of those fenced areas and cleared it, they wouldn't have to worry as much about making attention. Besides, she was sure the others would using their guns as well. With the exception of that one redneck, of course. Daryl was a peculiar one in Rhea's opinion. At first glance, he didn't exactly seem like he would fit into their little group. Or any group for that matter. But then again, Rhea wasn't particularly an expert on belonging.

The vehicles all came to a stop when they got to the fence. They didn't go right to the gate, Rhea had informed them previously that the gate was locked; she figured that one of the mindless freaks inside had the keys inside a pocket somewhere. Everyone got out this time, even the lady –whom Rhea learned was named Lori- that looked like she was going to pop out that baby at any second. Some of the people in the group that didn't have guns, had makeshift weapons like rebar with sharpened edges to stab the biters in the eye and puncture the brain stem.

Rick took the lead and moved towards the fence, wire cutters in hand, while the rest of the group flanked on either side of him. Glenn and Maggie wasted no time in finishing off the couple nearby cadavers, Glenn using a machete to splice open their skulls and Maggie using an axe, while Rick snipped a hole in the fence. Once there was an opening that was sizeable enough for all of use, Lori in particular, to fit through everyone climbed through the hole one after the other. The younger ones went first –the boy Carl and the blonde girl who looked around 18 –followed by rest of them as Rick held it open and T-Dog kept an eye out.

Out of some kind of politeness that Rhea wasn't truly sure even existing anymore, Lori insisted Rhea go through first; when Rhea tried to refuse the very pregnant woman's offer, Lori gave her an icy glare that reminded Rhea of her mother's own frigid look that could chill anyone to the bone. Since they didn't have time to argue, Rhea stepped through the gap in the enclosure that Daryl and Glenn were holding open on the other side. The temporary new addition to the group immediately turned around after making it past the barrier, holding out her pale, olive-toned hand to help Lori through. It was definitely a tighter squeeze for Lori, and Rhea was momentarily concerned that one of the stray pieces of thin metal may scratch Lori's protruding belly. Why Rhea was taking this kind of care over someone she had literally met less than half an hour ago, she didn't. She figured it had something to do with the fact that she was pregnant; the thought of new life almost gave her a ray of hope for this world. But deep down, the former mob daughter knew the hell that this poor baby would be born into. Pity was not something Rhea had felt much of in her life, but this was an exception. _And I thought I had a rough childhood, _Rhea thought to herself, suppressing a scoff as the rest of the crew climbed into the area. Rick brought up the rear and Glenn and Daryl were quick to weave a bright red wire through the hole, closing it tightly so no one else could get in.

The troop found themselves in a narrow walkway of sorts. Only a few feet from where they entered into the prison boundaries, they were met with another chain-link fence. At the one end of the lane, there was an steel door that undoubtedly led up to a guard tower. On the other side of the fence in front of them, walkers were clambering against the barrier, groaning loudly and sticking their rotting hands through in hopes of grasping their next meal. Hurriedly, and with weapons at the ready, they ran through the pathway, Daryl taking the lead. Perhaps he wasn't the so-called leader of the group but he definitely didn't waste time taking action when it was needed. _Papa would have liked that, _Rhea mused to herself briefly regarding the biker vest wearing man running in front of her; she was all too aware of how, in the business of crime, not asking too many questions or assuming authority was a trait needed to keep you out of a morgue.

They rounded a corner and went through a gate into another small, fenced area. This space, too, was clear of any undead inside, though that did not stop the youngest Dixon from raising his crossbow to eye-level, checking the zone. Everyone came to a stop when they came to another, larger gate; this one led right out into the prison yard and had close to thirty or more biters inside, all of them flocking to the gate where they could both smell and hear the humans.

"It's perfect," Rick uttered as he looked forward to the enclosed yard, breathing a little heavier than normal for the brisk jog. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by tonight."

While it would be no easy task, Rhea knew that it was definitely doable if they played their cards right and had a fairly good tactical plan. It was times like this that she really wished that she would've been able to be more involved in her father's old 'business'. Not that full on shootouts happened very often with the mob, since that would draw too much attention, but still. From what little she knew of him, Rick definitely seemed like a guy that knew just how he wanted to do things. And if he had come this far, Rhea surely wasn't going to argue his ability now, especially since she didn't have any kind of plan to offer herself.

"How do we shut the gate?" the oldest of them asked Rick.

Glenn piped up at the question, "I'll do it. You guys cover me." As soon as he started speaking, the short-haired brunette standing beside him was shaking her head. If Rhea's judgments were correct, it appeared as though there was some kind of relationship between them, and by the decisiveness of Maggie's reaction and rejection of Glenn's "suicide mission," it was a good guess that it wasn't strictly platonic. "I'm the fastest," Glenn argued back, pleading his case.

Apparently, though, Rick also wasn't too keen on the idea, "No, you Maggie and Beth draw as many as you can over there. Pop 'em through the fence." The former police officer turned his attention to the new female amongst them. "You have your bow back and your gun?" Rhea simply nodded in return, she had her bow slung across her back and pistol in hand, but she still didn't want to point out that she had a second gunned tucked in the back of her jeans, covered by her now loose navy blue t-shirt. "You and Daryl go back to the other tower." Glancing over at Daryl as Rick was giving them instructions, she noticed that he already had his icy blue eyes on her, which he was quick to move away the second he noticed her eyes meet his. Rhea momentarily furrowed her brows in confusion at the small, odd exchange between them before she followed him running back to the tower near where they first came in. She could hear as everyone else took their places as her and Daryl made their way to the guard tower; vaguely making out that Rick would be the one to make run for the gate.

Sprinting down the gravel-covered walkway, Rhea and Daryl made it to the orange door of the guard tower. With his crossbow in one hand, Daryl stood behind the door with his other hand on the handle; Rhea went to the opposite side, closer to where the door would open up, and leaned against the cement wall of the tower with her gun raised. Daryl looked at her, briefly sweeping his eyes across her face, trying to gauge if she was ready to enter the structure yet. She met his gaze with her own sky blue eyes and gave a sharp nod, signalling for him to open the door.

Twisting the door knob, the door swung open and Rhea ducked inside, whipping her head around looking for any danger. She took a few steps forward, Daryl following her alert as ever. Their feet moved quickly up the metal steps, and to their relief they didn't hear any growls or see any reanimated bodies. They reached the top in silence and carried on out the door to overlook the yard. Rhea took a spot up against the rail, keeping her gun trained on the field below, with Daryl around the corner.

Rhea could make out Lori getting ready to open the gate for Rick when she heard a scoff beside her. "I'm startin' to think that bow's just for show."

With slight annoyance, Rhea glanced over to Daryl who was wearing a small smirk on his lips. "Please, just didn't want to show you up," she retorted with a cheeky grin.

Though she had looked away by then, Daryl's smirk grew ever so slightly at her playful jab. That didn't last long, however, as the gate opened and Rick entered the yard. Aiming carefully, Rhea began picking off some of the walkers that were getting close to Rick, or any that seemed to be making their way over to him. Daryl followed suit, as Hershel and Carl were in another one of the guard towers did the same. The amount of bullets being fired almost completely drowned out the sound of the hungry snarls below. Rick made it to the gate at last, moving as fast as he could, he kicked one of the cadavers back and shut the gate, locking it shut, and hurrying back into the guard tower beside the fence.

"He actually did it," Rhea murmured in both shock and amazement. The man beside her didn't notice as she put her gun back in its holster and picked up her bow and loaded it.

Daryl lowered his weapon for a split second while made a couple circle gestures with his free hand. "Light it up!" He yelled towards the rest of the group and the slaughter began. Now that Rick was out of the way everyone began their killing spree, cleaning out the rest of the walkers from the field. Rhea had to be much more methodical when using her bow. Though she had been using it almost since the outbreak, she wasn't nearly as familiar with one as opposed to a gun. Daryl took a peek at the woman beside him, and now took note that she had switched weapons. Still trying to stay focused at the task at hand, he also couldn't help stealing a look everyone once in a while. He definitely noticed that she took more time when she was aiming. But he was impressed, though he would probably never admit it, with how accurate her shots were.

Within virtually no time at all, the field was clear, motionless bodies dressed in blue jumpsuits littered the grass. Rhea smiled to herself, feeling the effects of the small victory. They made their way back down to the ground where everyone else seemed to be headed. She momentarily caught Daryl's eyes and he gave her a short nod of approval as she made her way over to Hershel, Carl and Lori. Carol and rest except for Rick were coming up to the gate as well and Carol asked how Lori was, noticing she was holding her stomach.

"I haven't felt this good in weeks," the pregnant woman replied with a smile as she held the gate open for us.

In fact, everyone seemed quite happy as they walked into the yard. "We haven't had this much space since we left the farm," Carol exclaimed. Rhea couldn't help but feel joyous as well, though she wasn't entirely sure why. It's not like she would be staying here long.

The group, Rhea included, was jolted out of their cheerful state when they heard yelling in the not-too-far-off distance. All of their eyes fell towards the outside of the fence where they saw the figure of a male standing, shouting out. Slowly people's gaze went from the man to Rhea, and her eyes grew slightly wider. He was calling her name.


	5. Chapter 5: Revised

**Updated.. Originally posted this without the first half of the chapter.. This is what happens when you write on two different computers. Thank you Leyshla Gisel for bringing that to my attention! Enjoy!**

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Rhea's heart was pounding as she saw her brother on the outside of the prison yard, calling for her. In a full sprint, she ran to the gate. Though she didn't notice it yet, Rick who had caught sight of what was going on finally and Daryl both jogged to keep up with Rhea. Rick and Daryl, however, had their weapons drawn, still unsure of what was going on.

Evan, having seen the two men running behind his sister with their weapons out, immediately assumed the worst. He raised his rifle up and aimed it towards the closest man, Daryl.

"No, don't shoot!" Rhea screamed to her sibling, waving her arms wildly above her head, hoping to whatever God was still out there that Evan didn't shoot one of her new allies.

Eyebrow quirked up, Evan lowered his gun slightly and turned his attention to his sister. She had finally reached the gate, and with a huff he walked over to meet her, confusion and irritation apparent on his features.

"What the fuck Rhea? What's going on?" Evan growled towards his sister as they finally got close to each other, with only the gated fence separating them.

"Damn good question," Daryl muttered behind her, clearly not impressed with the new male in their midst who, just moments ago, had a gun trained on him.

Rhea spun her head around, facing Rick and Daryl, "This is my brother I told you about." Rick seemed a bit more understanding with the answer, though he was still hesitant. Daryl wasn't happy about this so-called brother at all. It was pretty obvious, considering they both shared the same high cheekbones, pronounced jawlines and sky blue eyes, that they were related. But Daryl could feel as though accepting in these two, even if it was just a temporary arrangement, it would be more trouble than they're worth. He stood behind Rhea and Rick who had stepped beside Rhea at the fence; the Dixon's arms were crossed and his eyes narrowed towards the siblings.

"Who are these people, Rhea?" Evan asked, softer this time but still firm and insistent.

"This is Rick, and that there is Daryl," she answered, pointing with her thumb as she introduced the two men, "We've cleared out this prison yard and if we help them clear out at least a portion of the prison, they'll let us search for that, uh, information we've been looking for."

"An' then we're sendin' ya on your way," Daryl interjected somewhat forcefully. Rhea pursed her lips momentarily before nodding in agreement.

Evan stood there with his hand on his hips, taking it all in. After a few seconds, he shook his head, "No, Rhea, we'll find another way."

Rhea rolled her eyes, exasperated, "There is no other way Evan. This is the only way we can get what we need out of this prison. This is the chance we've been waiting for."

"No, this is the chance _you _have been waiting for," the older brother scoffed, "And we don't need this as much as you make it seem."

"Perhaps not, but why else would we come all this fuckin' way? Just to give up? Hell no! Look, as soon as we find that paperwork, we'll be on our merry way. Just stay here and help us out."

Evan still was not convinced at all. "No, Rhea. We'll find another place to go. I'm not staying, and neither are you. You're place is-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence, brother," Rhea snarled darkly.

By this time, Rick and Daryl were observing this fiery interaction with both curiosity and caution. It was painfully obvious that these two siblings were not 'one big, happy family.' "Look I hate to cut this little rendezvous short," Rick interjected, "But we have quite a bit of work to do before dark so if you two could decide what you want to do…"

Evan sighed and ran his free hand down his face in mild frustration, sighing as he knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "Why don't I come back and get you in a couple days? That should give you enough time."

"I'm sorry but I don't know we can allow that," Rick said, declining his offer, "Once you leave, we can't let you come back. For the safety of our group."

Rhea bit her bottom lip, she understood why Rick's refusal; why would he trust these people he met just earlier today? If they came back here, they could bring who knows what with them. "I'll come find you when I get what I came for."

"Rhea, you know how dangerous this forest is by yourself," Evan countered, still hoping he could persuade his sister to come back with him.

"Thanks, but I can handle myself. I'll see you when I get back. Stay safe," The younger sister finished with a small smile offered to her brother. He didn't return the gesture, just turned and walked away, not looking back to his last known living relative.

Sighing, Rhea turned back to Rick and Daryl, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry 'bout that. My brother can be a bit of a stubborn pain in the ass."

Daryl snorted, almost letting out a sarcastic laugh, "Y' can say that again."

* * *

had finally fallen on the Georgia, darkness surrounding the group finding refuge in the fenced prison yard. The air was surprisingly calm and still, although it was cool; winter was just subsiding and the nights got quite a bit chillier. Rhea was secretly wishing she had brought a sweater. She was trying her best not to show it but her bare arms were covered in goosebumps and she could barley feel her toes. Of course she hadn't exactly anticipated the events of the day when she had left the tree house her and Evan were sharing. But despite that, she was pretty happy with what had unfolded, hoping that she could finally find out where her dad was, if he was even still alive.

A couple of hours earlier, Daryl had gone out on a solo hunt to get some much needed sustenance for everyone. He only came back with a few squirrels and raccoon but it was still better than nothing at all. Most of them had gathered around a fire that Hershel and Glenn had built and roasted the fresh pieces of meat on spit. Carol had politely offered some of the food to Rhea but she respectfully declined. She didn't want to trouble these people or become any more of a burden on them. She wasn't entirely sure why but around some of them, Rick especially, she felt as if she were tiptoeing on broken glass; just the slightest wrong step could incur damage. Rhea figured that maybe it was just because they didn't trust her yet. She honestly couldn't blame them. She was shocked that she had trusted them as much as she had thus far. Trust wasn't exactly one of her strong suits. But if anyone truly knew the life she had been forced to live before the world had gone to shit, they would probably understand why. Even the mob boss's daughter could be offed at any time.

Rhea was trying to get closer to fire as humanly possible without getting burned. Most of the group was also sitting around the glowing, orange flames. The only ones that weren't there were Daryl, who was standing atop the rolled over truck by the gate and Rick who was patrolling the perimeter, looking for any imperfections in the fence. Grabbing a little plate, Carol stood up and got a bit of food together. Rhea wasn't exactly sure why, since Carol had eaten already, but as her blue eyes followed Carol, she realized she was bringing the food over to Daryl. She was trying to be discreet about it, hell she wasn't trying to do it at all, but she couldn't help but occasionally glance over to where Carol and Daryl were standing on the truck_. Curiosity and boredom_, Rhea reasoned with herself as she casually watched the interaction between the two. Her brows furrowed ever so slightly when Daryl set down his plate and started rubbing her shoulder. Rhea was not sure at all why she had that reaction. She had neutral feelings about Glenn and Maggie's obvious relationship and Rick and Lori's seemingly estranged marriage.

Before she could carry on that train of thought Glenn interrupted, "So Rhea, where are you from?"

Rhea's eyes were pulled away from Daryl and Carol and her attention turned to Glenn with a well-mannered smile. "New Orleans."

Glenn nodded thoughtfully, trying to make light conversation with the stranger. Along with the others, Glenn was not entirely ready to trust her yet, but he didn't feel the need to treat her harshly either. You never know when someone will be useful, and she was just a tiny little thing. "Have you been travelling around quite a bit since this all started then?"

Rhea shook her head, "No, we stayed in New Orleans for quite some time. We had built a sort of bunker there after Hurricane Katrina that we used as shelter. But supplies got scarce and, well..." She trailed off, not knowing how to word what happened. Everyone was still looking at her, expecting her to finish the sentance, even though, deep down they figured how it would end. "They were idiots," she concluded, trying not to sound too crass, "They got bit in situations that could have been avoided, and then one of them got bit and didn't tell us and came back to our shelter. My brother and I were lucky to make it out of there unscathed." Her face was composed as she told her story, and her voice held more resentment and anger than sadness. There were a couple of nods in understanding among the group; they knew what simple carelessness could cost you and everyone around you in the end. "I'm kind of happy we left New Orleans though," Rhea tried adding to come off a bit more optimistic, "It's absolutely nuts there. The city is so overrun but these freaks it's crazy. Being out in the country is such a huge difference. There's so much space."

"We could dig a canal under the fence and we'd have a water supply," T-Dog piped in at the subject of their newly aquired area. Rhea couldn't argue that the place did have a lot of potential for development. Hershel nodded in agreement, mentioning that they would be able to plant some produce in the field as well. Afterwards, the white-haired man gently asked his youngest daughter Beth to sing. Rhea blankly stared into the fires as Beth's sang; she did have a lovely voice and when Maggie joined in, it was in complete harmony.

Rick, Daryl and Carol slowly made their way back to the fire as Beth and Maggie were singing. Rhea glanced up at Daryl but cast her eyes back downward almost instantly. He wasn't looking at her, but she didn't want him to catch her eyeing him either.

Rick crouched down between Carl and Lori, appearing as though he was about to address the group. "Better all turn in. I'll take watch over there. Got a big day tomorrow," he advised the group.

Glenn looked a bit perplexed by Rick's request, "What do you mean?"

"Look I know we're all exhausted. This was a great win. But we've got to push just a little bit more," The leader of the group was doing his best to be empathetic. He almost reminded Rhea of a sports coach, always trying to push his team just that extra mile. "What Rhea told us about this place falling early, it all seems to be checking out since most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners," as he mentioned her, Rick glanced at Rhea with a very small, tight-lipped smile. She was happy he was acknowledging that what she said was panning out to be truth this far. She certainly wasn't intentionally leading them to their deaths. "So chances are the supplies may be intact. They'd have an infirmary. A commissary."

"An armory?" Daryl questioned with interest. Though ammunition and weapons were crucial to surviving, it made Rhea smirk internally that that's what the redneck was most interested in. He was, naturally, dead serious.

"That would be outside the prison itself but not too far away."

Rhea nodded in agreement with what Rick just stated, "Wardens offices would have all of that information, weapons, food, medicine, and a layout of the prison."

"This place could be a gold mine." Rick could barely hold back the hope and excitement in his voice.

Hershel looked a bit more skeptical towards Rick's plan, "We're dangerously low on ammo. We'd run out before we make a dent. "

"That's why we have to go in there hand to hand. After all we've been through, we can handle it, I know it. These assholes don't stand a chance." It became very clear to Rhea why Rick was in charge of the group. When he was set on doing something, he was determined to carry through with it, despite what the group thought. He was very convincing, though. And if he had carried this large of a group for this long, it spoke volumes to his ability to lead.

Rhea decided to speak up again directing her statement to Rick, "I don't mind using my gun and ammo if you want to conserve yours."

"That would be helpful, thanks," Rick gave her a small head nod of appreciation. He didn't want to admit it, and he felt as though his crew could handle it on their own, but he didn't want to turn down an extra fighting hand, or in this case, gun on their side.

Rhea gave him a small smile in return as he got up and went back to patrolling the fence. Though Lori got up after him, the rest of them got ready to at least attempt to get some sleep. No one had overhead shelter, but they tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible on the ground. Rhea couldn't deny that she was exhausted, her mind and body ached with fatigue. She couldn't remember the last time she has actually had a good nights sleep or felt well rested. But she certainly wasn't about to bitch about it either. It didn't look like these people had had it much better. With her arms still wrapped around her body to keep warm, she layed down on her side, curling up beside the fire; her thick, wavy hair was the only barrier she had between her face and the grass. She kept in that position for what felt like hours, willing herself to fall asleep but her eyes and mind couldn't allow her to become vulnerable. Rhea had always had difficulty falling asleep in a new surrounding for the first time, even before the outbreak. She could never just assume a new place was safe or secure. Probably because most of the time, she wasn't safe, especially now.

Biting her lip, she remembered the folded piece of paper tucked away in her bra; pockets were always too obvious a place to keep things and it was something she didn't want to risk losing or being found. Quietly, knowing she was going to be getting little if any sleep, she sat up right, scooting closer to the bright, burning fire she looked around the makeshift camp to see if anyone else was awake besides Rick who was still far off by the fence. Discreetly she pulled out the piece of paper, being careful not to wake anyone as she unfolded the letter, and scanned over the handwritten words of her father for what seemed like the millionth time.

Daryl, though he may have slipped away into dreamland for a couple minutes, was a very restless sleeper. If past memories of his brother or abusive father didn't haunt him in his sleep, the dead eyes of Sophia would. He kept his eyes closed to rest them, but he was still wide awake and alert. At first, he had figured he had only imagined someone nearby stirring, but he had assumed that it was someone either moving in their sleep or trying to get more comfortable. If getting comfortable at all was even possible on the lumpy ground. But when he heard the faint rustling of what sounded like paper, he knew someone else was awake. His steel blue eyes blinked open as he focused them in the dark. He didn't have to search long to see who was awake; it was easy to spot Rhea sitting right in front of the fire. Her legs were crossed as she sat as close to the fire as the piece of paper in her hands would allow before the caught on fire. She seemed so absorbed in whatever she was reading, she didn't even notice him stand up and walk the couple feet closer to flames. As he got closer, the younger Dixon brother could visibly see that she must have been cold. She was tensing her muscles and trying her best not to shake, though she did tremble just a bit. In all honesty, he was confused as to why Rick even agreed to let her tag along. She was pleasant enough and helpful, though her brother was an ass. But taking people in wasn't exactly something this group did on a regular basis. Daryl and Rick had, in some ways, become a lot closer since they left the farm; Daryl was given more responsibility for providing, protecting, and making decisions for the group. But he still wasn't going to outwardly reject this newcomer just yet. She was just a tiny little thing anyways. Good with her weapons, albeit slow with her compound bow, but didn't seem to impose any kind of danger to the group.

He lightly tugged at his dirty pancho before silently taking it off his shoulders, leaving him just in his plaid button up shirt that had the arms ripped off and his biker jacket. Holding out the article of clothing finally caught the girls eye. When she saw Daryl standing there suddenly she jumped a little, not expecting to see him standing right behind her. He gestured again, offering her the poncho for warmth.

"Oh geez, don't sneak up on people like that," she whispered. He just shrugged and made one last chance for her to take his poncho. "I appreciate the offer but I'm okay, thank you," she declined with a petite smile, though shied away too much eye contact. She couldn't argue the fact that he was attractive. Maybe if it was still before the whole dead eating everyone thing, she would've even acted on it, though she doubted, judging by his small-town redneck lifestyle, that their paths would've ever crossed before. But the way the glow of the fire lit up his eyes and angular face, glistening over his well worked muscles, she couldn't help but feel shy around him now that it was just the two of them conversing alone

At her refusal, he scoffed, "Fine, freeze t' death for all I care." The was a good part of the reason Daryl didn't like being nice to people. At best, they usually didn't accept it. And he had the scars to prove that it got worse than that.

Sensing his automatic disdain at her rejection, she knit her eyebrows together with a slight frown, "Look, I just don't want to be any more of a burden. I'm not trying to come off as ungrateful."

"You're not doin' a very a good job," Daryl mumbled rolling his eyes, turning away from Rhea and walking towards where Rick was taking watch. Hopefully scouting for danger would keep his mind off of that unappreciative girl by the fire.

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**Author's Note: I am so grateful to everyone that reads and reviews this story! You have no idea. I wasn't expecting this response at first at all. I'm also so nervous for the season finale tonight. If it's anything like the emotional roller coaster of last week's episode, I don't even know what I'll do. Hopefully everyone enjoyed this update! I'm trying really hard to put a chapter out each week but in the next month or so that might be more difficult. Also, I currently do not have a beta.. If anyone is up to the challenge please PM me and let me know. More just to bounce ideas off of. **


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